


The Pillars

by Fox_the_Clever_Turnip



Category: Original Work
Genre: Fantasy, Gen, Tragedy, War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-19
Updated: 2015-01-19
Packaged: 2018-03-08 06:32:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3199004
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Fox_the_Clever_Turnip/pseuds/Fox_the_Clever_Turnip
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Tamir, grown up in a monastery, lives to see war at 16.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Pillars

**Author's Note:**

> This was a one-shot I did for my intermediate fiction workshop. The word limit was 1k, and it's incredibly cramped. I'm considering expanding it to the 3k it would likely run if I was allowed to go on. =] Enjoy.

_King Tamir,_

_The Pillars have fallen. We urge you to evacuate Greenfall Monastery at once. The enemy cannot be held back long._

_May the gods keep you,_

_Brother Lye._

I turned the parchment over, folding and refolding along the crease points, considering the edges. Brother Arun's eyes bored into my like hot pokers as he stood, silent, in the doorway. What was he expecting? A ball of iron sat in my stomach, and I tried to appear impassive as I tossed the parchment onto my desk.

"These ghost stories of the Old Keep and the Dark coming to take the Pillars will hardly scare us off, Brother Arun. Will you ensure a vigil is kept at Greenfall's high points?" I asked, rising from my chair, the legs of it screeching on the tile.

Arun cringed. "Of course, my king. All the necessary preparations are being made. Are you sure you won't evacuate, as Brother Lye recommends? He's a fine warrior and brilliant leader. Honestly, my king, I advise we take his recommendation to heart and leave Greenfall for a few days at the very least."

"Unacceptable. We'll hold our ground—"

"You've never seen war, Tamir. What it does to people, to nations. Your safety is paramount. We cannot rebuild if we have no king, can we?" He always became so familiar when he worried. A fault, but one I embraced. That familiarity built me a life here.

"There will always be a king, Brother Arun, even if it isn't me."

Arun's nose wrinkled and he took a step back. "You're far too young to embrace death so readily. The Pillars are no more. They're a pile of dust in the Holy Land. Our messenger has seen it first-hand. They come for you next."

I paced the room, pausing at the window only briefly. Everything looked so placid, as it always had. Stars in the sky, wind in the trees. And fifty miles west, the Pillars of the Four Gods were rubble--the crowning achievement of my forebears. At sixteen, I suddenly felt sixty, like a great weight sought to crush my spine.

"You've done so well, learned so much. We're... _proud_ of you, my king. All of the Brothers at Greenfall have sought to give you the best education and prepare you for the worst situations, but... there can be no _true_ preparation. Great men are made in fire, and I fear that this is yours, come far too early." I felt Arun's hand on my shoulder, and I steeled myself, locking my knees against the overwhelming desire to crumble beneath the kind gesture. This man, all of these men, was my family. My fathers. They'd groomed me and made me into a man. A king.

"If this is mine, then I will face it. We will rebuild and the Pillars will stand again." I turned to face him, putting the illusion of peace beyond the window behind me. "How long do we have?"

"I hardly think till dawn, my king," Arun offered, lips pressing together as he looked me over. Pride. Fear. Resignation. The man was a monk, sworn to peace and knowledge by this Order, and I would force him into war.

###

Brother Arun had been right, of course. We should have fled. The Pillars that housed the Four Gods were brought down by the Dark. It sounded so ominous then, a personification of the intangible veil of night, but our enemy was like any other: men with a vendetta and a desire for power. They wanted my throne and my lands and they wanted to eradicate the Four Gods and bring their Faithful to their knees. Men who had lived in the dark of the Old Keep too long, stewing in magic and lore and fear.

I watched them ride to the gates of Greenfall Monastery from atop the third tier of the courtyard. How shocked would they be when they found the throne was figurative? Long gone were the days when a king sat in a gilded chair with dozens of attendants at his beck and call. I had a modest room in the monastery where the monks provided me with an exemplary education and all of the situational knowledge I could ask for. All of the mistakes and triumphs of my predecessors were recorded here and were mine to absorb.

But Arun was right, again. There was no preparation for this.

“Bring out the Boy-King!” called a man on a dark horse, a torch in his hand, at the front of the swelling mass of raiders. They were like high tide licking the gates of Greenfall, not crashing, but possessing an idle rumble that set my knees shaking.

“I’ll go,” I said, and Arun’s hand clamped my shoulder.

“No.”

“I must. They’ll tear Greenfall to the ground and kill you all, I expect.” There was only the fear of losing my dignity that kept the bile from erupting from my stomach. “We should have fled. I thought I could… reason….”

Again, Arun squeezed my shoulder. “Your decision was brave if… poorly thought-out.” He smiled, a wan, sad smile. “They’re going to tear Greenfall to the ground whether you go or not. The keepers of the Pillars tried to be peaceful as well. The messenger said it didn’t stop them.”

I tried to reflect it, but it was shaky at best. “I’m sorry.” My voice hitched. So much for dignity.

“The Boy-King! Now!” their leader crowed.

“You’ll not have him!” Arun shouted, and I looked down into the empty courtyard as the raiders laughed. We couldn’t stop them and the monks were hiding. They weren’t fighters and I couldn’t begrudge them their fear.

“Brother Arun—”

I couldn’t see how, but they broke through the gates with little effort—they swung back on their hinges, bent and mangled. The men were like a colony of ants, all climbing the walls and over one another, tearing up the gardens, toppling the topiaries and statues. They just… poured in, liquid and dark and terrible. I clutched Brother Arun’s sleeve as our doom climbed toward us.

“Cooperate and hope for the best. It was my pleasure to be your teacher, Tamir. My king.” His words should have been calm, tender. Instead they were panicked as the raiders approached.

“Arun!” I yelped and a hand closed over my mouth from behind.

The Pillars had fallen, and Greenfall had been taken.


End file.
